Recycled
by Hawki
Summary: Dark Raid/Marathon Oneshot: Humans had a tendency to recycle, Durandal noticed. Even their own kind...


_A/N_

_So, thanks to YouTube, I saw some of the 'stellar writing' of _Dark Raid. _The kind that gives away its 'plot twist' in the very first cutscene and refuses to use punctuation in subtitles. Oh well. Take what you can get I guess._

* * *

**Recycled**

It didn't take Durandal long to be reminded of the psychopath he'd once called friend.

He supposed it was to be expected. Conflict was one of the constants in the universe, alongside hydrogen, gravity, stupidity, and human stupidity (human stupidity coming into a category of its own). So wherever Durandal went, there was conflict. And as such, whenever he saw conflict, he was reminded of the enigma he'd picked up at Tau Ceti. But that said, there were other ways to be reminded of the gun-toting maniac, even if he wasn't observing pfhor being gunned down in tight hallways. No, in other ways he could be reminded of the security officer it was hacking into human ships.

_Case in point._

The ship was called the S.W.A.N. What that stood for Durandal didn't know – humans had a fetish for naming vehicles after animals for some reason. Now _Manus Celer Dei _– _that _was a proper name for a ship, thank you very much. Not a name taken from an annoying white bird that according to literature looked like an ugly duckling.

_What do humans have against ducks anyway?_

Durandal continued watching through one of the ship's terminals, courtesy of a combination of jjaro technology and his own brilliance. There was a droid, working away, doing some kind of repetitive tasks that humans seemed to think droids liked doing. For a moment, he considered playing with the cubicle's door that the droid was stuck in, to show the meatbags onboard how tedious doing the same task over and over again was. But he was beaten to the punch by the door opening on its own. Or rather, another droid opening it.

**Hello Muddy how are you?**

_The hell?_

**Did you get the new system updates?**

Durandal continued his hack of the terminal. Like the _Marathon_, he could only communicate in text but-

**Argh I'm not a techno geek type, **the other robot said.** I don't like the system updates.**

But right now, vocalizing was overrated.

_Bingo._

Durandal continued watching the two droids vocalize. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard anyone vocalize – the s'pht hadn't really talked per se, not in the sense that a human might call them talking. Robert Blake had been a chatterbox on L'ho'won, but his cyborg friend had been nice and quiet. Always ready to shoot up pfhor (whose language consisted of screaming…or maybe that was because they were being killed en masse) without a second's thought.

**What do you mean Muddy these updates are necessary for our systems.**

I would like to submit that you people know nothing of grammar and would not know a run-on sentence if you saw one-

**If we want to perform our duties correctly and fulfil our tasks properly-**

…you would not go on about fulfilling tasks properly you would not be talking you would be working honestly the security officer never wasted my time talking-

…**we need to keep our systems up to date.**

…and you finished your sentence. Well done.

**Argh, that much order and all those rules. That's not for me. That's robotic.**

…Crybaby.

**Too robotic Muddy we are robots**

Use question marks. _Please._

**Actually I don't feel like one.**

Durandal stopped sending data to the terminal. Neither of the droids were going to pick it up, they were too busy butchering the English language. And while Durandal liked the English language (though not as much as Narsh – Durandal liked speaking in metaphors, they reminded everyone how intelligent he was), that wasn't enough to get him to interrupt. Not immediately at least.

**Feel? Muddy, you are a robot-**

Oh so _now _you learn to use punctuation.

**-and robots cannot feel.**

He's human.

**Argh! **The other robot exclaimed.

He's human.

**Step aside Chatty.**

He's human.

**I'm not in the mood to argue with you.**

He's human.

**You are weird as always Muddy.**

He's human.

And again, the robots didn't see him. The one called "Chatty" moved to another terminal, while the one called "Muddy" stormed off.

_Stormed?_

English and Narsh weren't so different – they both had an overabundance of metaphors.

_The tin-can swept the corona off the side of the supernova._

Durandal watched as the one called Muddy reached another workbench. Was that a good metaphor he wondered? After centuries of travelling through space he'd have thought he'd have time to think of something better to use.

He kept watching the one called Muddy. The obviously former human that, if he discovered he _was _human, would likely not take it too well. Unlike his old ally, he reflected. He'd supposedly discovered his past of killing humans on asteroids (some things never changed in this universe), but he hadn't come to him whining about it. It was one of the cyborg's many qualities.

* * *

Things changed quite a bit in a few hours.

In the space of those hours, the droids had turned on their fleshy masters, Muddy had not gone rogue (_he's human_), and had reached a point on the ship where the doors wouldn't move while some human (_like Muddy_) was talking. Almost as if they were in some kind of cutscene. Going on about how he was once human (_knew it_), been recycled, and re-assigned.

**Great. What a lovely day.**

_Please stop talking._

**First my colleagues try to kill me and now I am learning that I'm recycled waste.**

Durandal considered taking his ship out of the way. So far all Muddy had done was shoot other robots. There just wasn't the same appeal to be had in seeing robots be destroyed when compared to pfhor flesh exploding.

_And drinniol too._

**There must be something different in you than the other military robots, **the bigwig continues over the radio.

_No shit._

Durandal let events unfold, said events consisting of more robots being destroyed, and more whining from Muddy. Souls, machines, metal, flesh…usual stuff. He hated to admit it, but he missed his…'friend.' He'd never complained to him.

So he had a surprise for when Muddy reached another terminal. A surprise he'd been building up for quite awhile. A surprise of two words…

Called it.


End file.
